Chapter Four #3
“I take it that this isn’t the first time it has happened?”
The young woman shook her head regretfully. “It is not,” she said. “It happens more than you know. That is why I’ve taken to smearing mud on myself, to deter them, but in this case it did not work.”
That explained her filthy appearance, and William completely understood.
He was also not unsympathetic. He was old enough to know what women went through in life, for he’d seen it himself.
The fairer sex had their share of trouble.
Before he could reply, however, the tavern keeper came out of the kitchens to survey the damage.
He saw the upended table and food all over the floor before looking accusingly at the wench.
“What did you do?” he boomed.
The girl didn’t shrink at the tone. “I was only doing my duties,” she said. “The man grabbed me, and—”
He cut her off. “And you caused this?” he said, outraged as he pointed to the upended table. “You sent away a paying customer?”
“She did not cause it,” William said in his deep, steady voice. “The man was quite bold with her and would have hurt her had I not intervened. Where were you when this happened? Do you not protect the women who work for you?”
The accusations were now on the tavern keep, who didn’t like it one bit. Ignoring the knight, he looked at the young woman, his features alight with fury.
“I told you to behave yourself,” he said. “You came to me, begging for a job, but you do not have the sense of an alley cat. I told you not to strike the customers or insult them, but you do not listen to me. You cause trouble!”
The young woman wasn’t in the mood to be scolded for defending herself. Her cheeks turned red as the tavern keep shouted at her.
“If I do nothing, they are allowed to touch me at will, and I have told you that I will not permit that to happen,” she countered.
“But if I tell you what has happened, you reward them. You ply them with drink so they will not be insulted that we did not respond to their pinching and slapping and probing hands.”
The tavern keep wasn’t used to being spoken to in such a manner, and most especially not by a woman. Taken aback that she should have the gall to point out his way of handling drunk patrons who fondled his wenches, he waved his hands at her and turned away.
“Take your things and go,” he said. “I do not want to see your face again. You are too much trouble.”
He stormed off, back to the kitchen, shouting at his staff as he went.
The young woman stood there, mouth agape.
When she realized that she no longer had a position, she looked as if she was about to weep, but held herself in check.
She had already made enough of a spectacle.
She looked at William to see what his reaction was, but he was already turning away from her.
She presumed he was returning to his business.
Blinking away the tears that were threatening, the young woman quickly turned away, but William grasped her by the arm.
“Not so fast,” he said, somewhat quietly. “Come here and sit down.”
Her head was down and she was resisting him somewhat. “I cannot, my lord,” she said. “I must quickly gather my things before he steals them.”
“Why would he steal them?”
“I do not know,” she said as she began to lose her composure.
“If he does not like the way we speak to a customer, he will not pay us a full wage, or if he feels as if we eat too much one day, he’ll not feed us the next day.
When I was ill not long ago and could not work, he took my only cloak.
He said it was payment for my lodgings, since I was not working. ”
He looked her over, so dirty and with the ill-fitting clothing. At closer inspection, she had perfect facial features, and he suspected that underneath all of that dirt, she was a beautiful woman. But there was something about her that seemed so… lost.
He was intrigued.
“When was the last time you ate?” he asked.
She didn’t seem comfortable telling him but knew she couldn’t refuse. “Yesterday,” she said. “In the morning.”
“And you have not eaten since?”
She shook her head, averting her gaze, and William was displeased with her answer. With a sharp sigh, one of exasperation, he tugged her over to an empty table not far from where Tristan and Addax were still sitting.
“Sit down,” he commanded quietly. “I will return.”
The young woman did, but she was perched on the edge of the chair as if prepared to run at a moment’s notice.
William had gone into the kitchen, and she could hear voices, but not what was being said.
There was a bang and a crash somewhere in the middle of it.
Very shortly, William emerged, followed by a serving wench bearing food and drink.
He silently pointed to the table where the young woman was sitting, and the wench set everything down before darting off nervously.
William sat down opposite the young woman.
“Eat,” he said. “My meal was interrupted by your foolish suitor, so you will eat with me.”
The young woman wasn’t sure how to respond. She was looking at the food as if overwhelmed by it all, but there was also fear in her eyes. She had no idea what was happening, or why the knight wanted her to eat. She only knew what she had to do.
She had to get out.
“I really must gather my possessions,” she said. “If he steals anything from me, I will not have the money to replace it.”
“He will not steal anything from you,” William said, pouring her a cup of warmed wine and putting it in front of her. “Drink this.”
“How do you know he will not steal anything from me?” she said, not moving to take the cup. “I told you that—”
He cut her off. “He will not steal anything from you because I told him that if he did, I would cut his hand off,” he said steadily. “Drink the wine before it cools.”
She stared at him a moment before looking toward the kitchens in confusion.
Was it possible that this knight actually defended her to the horrible tavern keeper?
Was it possible she actually had a few moments of reprieve from him?
When she began to realize she might actually have a champion in the bold young knight, her gaze returned to the table, and she hesitantly picked up the cup.
One small sip led to two large gulps. She was very thirsty.
William handed her a knife.
“Butter your bread,” he said. “It is good bread.”
She took the knife, timidly reaching for the butter as he tore off a hunk of bread and handed it to her.
“He uses good flour,” she said. “At least, for the better-paying customers.”
“Like me.”
“Aye,” she said, torn between buttering the bread and looking at his face. “And just who are you, my lord?”
“My name is de Wolfe,” he said, mouth full. He gestured toward the table about ten feet away. “Those are my comrades. We are from Wrexham Castle. Where are you from?”
She took a bite of the bread, chewing before she answered. “Far away,” she said, sounding sad. “Too far away.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I came to find my father.”
“Where is he?”
“Pembroke Castle.”
William cocked his head. “Pembroke?” he repeated. “That is several days’ ride from this place. What are you doing here, anyway?”
The young woman took another bite of bread, a very big bite because she was so hungry. She chewed a few times, swallowing, before she could answer.
“If you must know, I was abandoned,” she said. She paused, looking at him, her features awash with sorrow. “You do not really want to hear of my plight, do you? Because I should not like to burden you with it, but I would like to ask a question.”
“Ask.”
“Do you know of an honorable man who might escort me to Pembroke Castle?” she said. “I cannot pay much, but I will give them everything I have earned if they will only take me there.”
William’s brow furrowed. “Why not send for your father to come here to you?”
She sighed heavily and looked back to her food.
“I did,” she said quietly. “I paid a man all of the money I had to take a message to my father, only that was almost nine months ago and the man has never returned, nor has my father shown up. I fear the man has run off with the money just like my escort did. I’ve been working at this tavern since then, trying to earn enough money to pay for someone to escort me to Pembroke. ”
William stopped chewing. He sat back in the chair, studying her intently. He suspected there was far more to what she was telling him, and, being a man of compassion, he was compelled to hear it.
“I want you to start your story from the beginning,” he said. “I am getting pieces of what seems to be a terrible injustice done to you, so start from the beginning by telling me your name and where you came from. Then you will tell me how you came here.”
She gazed back at him. “You are asking quite a bit.”
“I know,” he said. “But tell me. Please. If I can help, I will.”
That seemed to prompt her. The young woman took a deep breath, brushing tendrils of her white-blonde hair from her eyes.
“My name is Andromeda de Courcy,” she said.
“I was born in Ireland, raised by Liam de Courcy at Rockbrook Castle south of Dublin. My father serves the Earl of Pembroke, and Lord de Courcy paid six soldiers a good deal of money to escort me to Pembroke Castle. We crossed the sea to Liverpool and took a road south, but by the time we reached this village, they decided they were no longer interested in escorting me to Pembroke. I awoke one morning and they were gone, leaving me to fend for myself.”
William shook his head in disgust. “And with no money, you found work here.”
“I did,” she said. “I was able to pay for a man to take a message to Pembroke Castle, but as I said, he never returned, and my father has yet to show his face, so I am certain the man simply ran off with my money.”
“Who is your father?”
“His name is Carr mac Murda.”